(Source: ch0k0late, via disfiguration)
Well fuck you darling.
(via hells-the-alternative)
(Source: she-will-b3-l0ved, via mypersonalsuicidenote)
It’s nice to have at least a modicum of control in a world where I can’t control anything else.
(Source: xbeautifuldeathx, via suicidal-hatred)
I don’t get it.
I honestly don’t understand how we’ve not passed out yet. I mean, really. Mind mind just needs to shut the fuck up and off and let me fucking sleep. All I fucking want to do is be unconscious for a few fucking hours. But apparently that’s just asking for too fucking much.
Also. My boyfriend, although I guess I like him and stuff, he makes me feel even shittier about myself, because of just how perfect he is in comparison to me. Honestly, I’d die to be as skinny as he is. Literally. Just urgh. Okay. Fuck it.
I’ve lost track of everything all over again.
And now he’s fallen asleep.
I’m far to awake and sober to be numb.
(via s-3-l-f-h-a-t-r-3-d)
I'll always reblog this.
- Depression Hotline: 1-630-482-9696
- Suicide Hotline: 1-800-784-8433
- LifeLine: 1-800-273-8255
- Trevor Project: 1-866-488-7386
- Sexuality Support: 1-800-246-7743
- Eating Disorders Hotline: 1-847-831-3438
- Rape and Sexual Assault: 1-800-656-4673
- Grief Support: 1-650-321-5272
- Runaway: 1-800-843-5200, 1-800-843-5678, 1-800-621-4000
- Exhale: After Abortion Hotline/Pro-Voice: 1-866-4394253
- If you ever want to talk: My tumblr ask is always open.
Well well well
Going to lock myself in a room with no food, a music player, my sex-person-boyfriend-thing, and hotbox and fuck the night away.
Yay for meeting my mother’s stereotype at long last: drugs, sex, alcohol and music. I’ll make my mother proud.
